


Targeted

by misscai



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Gun Violence, Gunshot Wounds, Love Confessions, Napping, Near Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-27 06:56:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12075852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misscai/pseuds/misscai
Summary: You've always been attracted to Jesse McCree, but you hide your attraction with snark and teasing--until a life and death situation arises on a mission.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> first ever reader insert fic woop woop!

When you saw the red dot of a sniper's sights settling on Jesse's back, you didn't think twice. You darted out from your hiding spot, putting yourself right in the way. He was a hero. You were expendable. The shot rang out, and for a moment you thought you were too late. But no, there was an agonizing pain blossoming in your abdomen and Jesse was still standing. Good. You placed one hand over your stomach, tugging Jesse's serape with the other.

“Sniper,” you said simply, motioning to the rooftop. Jesse dropped the final three combatants and whirled around, Peacekeeper trained on the head of his target. It was a clean shot, as always, and he turned back to you with a cocky grin and a teasing remark already prepared.

“Good eye, darlin'. I'll make a sharpshooter of you yet.” His brow wrinkled when you didn't respond other than staggering backwards a step. Your legs felt like jelly beneath you, and when you found yourself suddenly on the ground, you weren't surprised. “Whoa, there. Take it easy. You don't look so good. Are you sick?” Jesse crouched beside you, and you knew the exact moment that he saw the blood leaking from behind your fingers—his face went pale, his eyes wide with alarm and his hand already reaching for the comm link in his ear. “I need a doctor here!”

“We don't have one!” Lena replied, the sounds of battle nearly overpowering her voice. You winced at the noise in your own comm. “Angie and Jack aren't back yet!”

“Get her here ASAP!” He took a deep breath. “Shit!” Jesse ran a hand through his hair, knocking his hat off. He barely seemed to notice, too busy pulling his serape over his head and unbuckling his belt. “Alright, honey, we gotta get pressure on that wound. Can you do it?”

“I don't think so,” you murmured, taking inventory of your body and finding the results unpleasant.

“Okay, that's okay. I've got a backup plan.” He worked fast but more clumsily than usual, his metal fingers fumbling as he lifted your shirt up and pressed the balled-up serape against your skin. You whimpered at the contact. “I know, sugar. It's gonna get worse for a second but I'm gonna help you.” He wrapped his belt around your waist, tightening it and tying it in a knot to hold the serape in place. You didn't realize you were crying until Jesse was wiping the tears off your face. “You're gonna be okay, darlin'. Angie's on her way. She's gonna be here soon and she's gonna patch you up.” He faked a smile and that's when you knew just how much trouble you were in.

“I'm sorry, Jesse. I was so mean to you, I've always been so mean to you.” Guilt crashed over you in a wave, along with a rush of panic that you would die without finishing your confession. You began to tremble. “I've never hated you, I need you to know that—” Jesse laid a finger over your mouth, shaking his head.

“Don't do that. Don't act like this is your deathbed.”

“I have to tell you—”

“ _Please_ don't.” The raw edge to his voice nearly broke your heart. You struggled to sit up, desperate to reach out to him but gasping at the pain in your stomach with every minuscule movement. Jesse pressed your shoulders to the ground, squeezing them tightly. “You just rest. You're gonna be fine. Doc's on her way now.”

“I love you, Jesse.” You reached up, grabbing one of his wrists and tugging on it until he released your shoulder. You twined your fingers together with his and brought the back of his hand to your mouth, pressing a kiss against the warm skin. “I need you to know.”

“I do know, sweetpea, I know.” His eyes were shining wetly as he leaned down to kiss your forehead. “I feel the same way. And I'll tell you formally, but you gotta pull through this for me. You hold on until Angie gets here.” Quiet fell between you for a few tense seconds, then you shivered. “You cold, honey?”

“Mhm.” Words were too much effort now. Your eyes felt heavy.

“Hey, now, stay awake with me. I'm gonna move you, okay? I'll be quick.” He was, sitting down with his back against the wall of the courtyard fountain and shifting you to sit in his lap. Your side pressed against his chest, and his flesh hand rubbed warmth into your outer thigh. You didn't know if you were worried or relieved when the pain of movement was dull and barely registered. “How'd you let this happen, darlin'? Didn't you see the sighting laser?” 

“I did,” you murmured. Your eyes were closing against your will.

“Then why didn't you move?”

“I did.”

“What?”

“Wasn't aimed at me. Was aimed at you.”

His response was lost to darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

You hadn't expected the afterlife to be so warm. Your limbs felt heavy and unresponsive, your head throbbing. Perhaps this was just the normal response to death. But no, if you were dead, you wouldn't still be feeling the lingering pain in your stomach. You frowned, then opened your eyes. The sight of the Overwatch base's medbay greeted you, the windows darkened and the lights dimmed. Angela must have arrived in time.

Gingerly you sat up, removing the IV from the back of your hand and rubbing away the blood that welled to the surface. Your spine popped as you stood up, padding around the medbay in search of clothes more hearty than the paper gown you were wearing. The door slid open, and Angela stepped inside with a kind smile.

“You're awake; that's good!” She came to you immediately, pressing her hand against your forehead. “No fever, complete mobility. Are you in much pain?”

“It's a little uncomfortable, but nothing horrible. What happened after I passed out?”

“I reached you just a few minutes after. The caduceus stopped the worst of the bleeding but I didn't want to fully heal you before getting the bullet out. We took you back to base and I finished the operation. You've been asleep for two days.”

“I don't feel stitches. You used the caduceus for the rest?”

“Just to seal the wound. It is better for the body to heal itself on its own time, which is why you are still feeling a little pain.” She patted your shoulder. “You do not need to stay in the medical wing, though you will need to limit your strenuous activity for the next few weeks. If the pain grows unbearable, please see me immediately.”

“My clothes,” you said, “where did they go?”

“Still sealed in a biohazard bag. I don't know that they can be salvaged. You lost a lot of blood.”

“I need the serape. I have to clean it.” Angela motioned towards an orange sack sitting on the edge of a table, and you dug through it until you found the soft red material—darker than usual. “Thank you.”

“You should see Jesse soon,” Angela advised. “He has hardly slept for worrying about you. The only reason he isn't here now is because I had Reinhardt bodily remove him.” She smiled softly. “He really cares for you.”

“I know,” you said before heading out for your room.

.

It took a solid hour of scrubbing and another hour of tending to the fabric with a hair dryer, but eventually the serape was back in its original condition. Now dressed in sweatpants and a tank top, you lifted the warm garment to your nose, inhaling deeply. It didn't smell like Jesse anymore; you missed the scent of gun oil and cigarillo smoke, replaced by lavender and chemicals. Still, at least it was clean.

You made your way slowly to his quarters, nervousness nearly stopping you. Your last conversation had been heavy, and while you didn't regret it, you didn't know if he did. He could have only been placating you in what you both thought were your final moments. But either way, you couldn't stop now. You owed him that much. When you reached his door, you took a deep breath before knocking.

It took a few moments, but the door slid open, revealing a very disheveled and exhausted Jesse McCree. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and his hair was a tangled mess, and it looked as though his skin had paled three shades. His eyes grew comically wide when he saw you offering him a weak half-smile.

“Hi,” you said. Suddenly, arms were around you. His metal hand pressed your face into his chest while his flesh hand rubbed up and down your back. Jesse's ragged breaths were hot in your hair.

“You're okay,” he whispered, as if he couldn't quite believe it. “You're alright.”

“I'm fine, Jess. Just a little sore.” He released you immediately, glancing down at your wound. You missed his warmth.

“Sorry. I didn't even think...” His hand reached unconsciously for your midsection, but he stopped it halfway. You lifted the hem of your top, revealing the scar from the bullet wound. Jesse's eyes were locked on it, his thumb brushing across the new silvery skin. “That was meant for me,” he murmured, his eyes flicking back up to meet yours.

“It would've killed you,” you said. “It would've hit your heart. I couldn't let that happen.” You reached up to cup his cheek, stroking your fingertips over the shadows of sleeplessness. “You need to rest. Go get in bed.”

“Stay with me?” You nodded, following Jesse into his room. He settled down on the bed, lying flat on his back and reaching out for your wrist. You smiled at him, retrieving the serape from your crossbody bag and shaking it out.

“To keep you warm,” you told him, draping it across his chest. Jesse chuckled, looking at you with awe and affection as you sat down on the edge of his mattress.

“You're a real angel,” he said. “I'm a lucky man.” You slid closer to him, resting one hand on the back of his head when he placed it in your lap. He pressed a kiss to your knee—the closest thing to him. “I love you. I promised I'd tell you, and I'm a man of my word.”

“I love you, too, cowboy. Get some sleep.” Jesse stretched one arm around your legs, snuggling closer. You carded your fingers through his hair until his breathing evened out. Then you leaned your head against his pillow and closed your own eyes, endlessly grateful for the strong thudding of his heartbeat against your thigh.


End file.
